


Music to watch boys to

by spacegirl11



Category: Guns N' Roses
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:29:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26113435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacegirl11/pseuds/spacegirl11
Summary: Slash enjoys making mixtapes for everything, especially for when he's having fun with a boy, said boy it's just Duff and no one else
Relationships: Axl Rose/Izzy Stradlin, Duff McKagan/Slash
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	Music to watch boys to

**Author's Note:**

> The idea came to me after a week of insomnia and listening to the entire discography of Lana del Rey, once again I tried to correct this to the best of my abilities, sorry for any mistakes, stay safe and enjoy!

Slash had a mixtape for everything.

Duff noticed it as soon as the curly-haired boy moved out of his grandma's house and started living with them. Wherever he went there was always music playing in the background, for everything Slash had the perfect tape.

When he took a shower or just for lounging around in nothing but his boxers and a bottle of Jack, and if he was drunk enough would sing very off-key.

Making Axl seethe with anger and covering his ears, the blond didn't mind; he found it amusing, the way he would grip Steven's drumsticks or a comb as if they were a microphone and sing with such passion.

And Slash being Slash, he had to have a mixtape for when he brought a girl home, Duff could hear music emanating from the old boombox, loud enough to drown the obnoxious moans and to ignore Izzy and Axl kissing disgustingly beside him.

It didn't surprise Duff that the first time they fell on the bed, the raven-haired guitarist abruptly stopped their make-out session to put hastily on a tape.

He took off his black t-shirt with Def Leppard in the background, ruffling his wild curls, it was supposed to be sexy but Slash was far too drunk to attempt anything close to a striptease, the blond couldn't hide his chuckle at the clumsy movements.

His warm and plump lips were back on the pale expanse of Duff's long neck where his pulse beat strongly, there would be a bruise tomorrow morning and the blond without a doubt would get shy if any of the boys asked about it.

Duff puts his thumb over those attractive lips and the brunet sucks it lightly with his wet pink tongue, making the bassist's cock twitch in his tight leather pants, Slash smirks and his calloused fingers untied the drawstrings, like opening a present.

The brunet takes his length on his fiery mouth and Duff's jealous of the experienced way he laps at the silky skin of the head of his cock with half-lidded eyes like that mouth was made for his cock.

The guitarist moaned, sending vibrations straight to the blond's dick, and that makes his brown eyes roll to the back of his head.

It's the best orgasm the blond had in a while and maybe he came too soon but who could blame him if Slash kept doing magic with that sensuous tongue.

The brunet moans loudly and his curls bounced, hiding his face, he swallows Duff's release and wipes his mouth with the scratchy and foul-smelling comforter.

"Did you just creamed your pants?" asked the blond with a coy smile, his voice was slurred and sleepy with the post-coital bliss.

Slash glares at him and flips him off, peeling the sweaty material of his tight jeans, revealing his own softening dick, nestled between his soft thighs and his bushy pubic hair, the carpet matches the drapes.

"Don't judge, McKagan" Slash smiles, all pearly white teeth and sparkly eyes, it makes the blond's heart beat a little faster.  
Duff grabs a cigarette from the pack he has beside their crumpled clothing, Slash is belly down and he snatches it from the blond's hand.

The tape's still going and the guitarist's humming along, the taller man glanced at his plump lips curved around the stick, if he wasn't so tired maybe his dick would stir in curiosity

"What's with the tape?" curiosity killed the cat and Duff's already regretting his question.

He doesn't want to hear about Slash's conquests and how many girls he fucks with that tape. He grabs another cigarette when the raven-haired boy refused to give him back the other one.

"I made it for Pamela a while ago, though it was killer so I made myself one too, not gonna lie it comes in handy when having fun, sets the mood" Slash wiggles his eyebrows and shrugs his shoulders.

He got up grabbing a dubiously clean pair of boxers from the ground and slide them on his hips, walked towards the door to venture downstairs for a fresh bottle of liquor, or whatever he can find to dull his thoughts.

In the next room, he can hear the frame of the bed hitting against the wall and high-pitched muffled moans. The brunet laughs and puts a hand on his chest, throwing his head, curls bouncing.

 _Lucky bastards_ thought the taller boy. At least Axl and Izzy could fuck in the only proper bed in the damned house.

Also, it surprised Duff to know that besides the act Axl likes to put on stage he's the one on the receiving end of his relationship with the flower child, if you catch his drift, it amazed him the things Izzy would confess to when drunk.

"Hey, Duff, this. this This is pure sex, right? no strings attached, just pure sex" Slash scratched the back of his neck nervously.

"Yeah sure, nothing to worry about" Slash gives him a thumbs up and hurries downstairs.

Slash's words linger in the air and the blond doesn't want to dwell on it, it's just a game for the brunet.

Sometimes girls got boring, they want the whole deal, the romance part and the cheesy dates, and hell even Duff wants those things, listen to music while they cuddle, watch movies, and have deep conversations in the dead of night, he's a helpless romantic through and through.

Meanwhile, the guitarist's not built for that kind of life, he's young and self-destructing himself it's far more entertaining.  
Duff doesn't judge him, half of the water in his body it's vodka but it hurts him that he's just another notch on his belt to brag about at parties.

The tape stops and the static fills the room making the moans in the next room appear to be even louder and Axl has a good set of lungs.

The white noise from the stereo it's enough to make his eyelids feel heavy and lull him to sleep, to make him forget the heartache.

**. . .**

All Slash would have to do is take the damn tape out and gave him a sly smirk, the blond lost count on how many nights he ended on the brunet's bed.

The taller boy didn't realize it became a ritual until their nightly encounters were disturbed, that night the guitarist arrived with Renee, hand in hand.

They didn't even acknowledge his presence, climbing straight to the stairs with urgency, the door to the shared bedroom slamming with force, making him flinch.

He damn well knew that the brunet wasn't his alone, he had to share it with everybody else, not even Renee could control him.

Sometimes Duff couldn't even look at her when the girl was too nice to him, felt too ashamed, if only she knew what he and Slash would do in the dark, he's sure he wouldn't see the sunrise again in his life.

Don't get him wrong, he liked Renee, the girl's nice, and she doesn't try to sleep with the whole band, she's beautiful with her dyed auburn hair. 

Duff psyched himself to think he was not jealous in the slightest, so far it's not working, he tightened his jaw, teeth grinding together.

With the usual tape blaring upstairs, he already memorized the song that will play next, it might be a trick of his brain but he can still hear the girl moaning.

He's falling for the guitarist and there's nothing he can do to stop it, had to remember it was just another fling, no strings attached, he wants to convince himself that he felt nothing, a lie to help him sleep in the night.

Steven's sleeping his high away on his lap and the taller boy concentrates on petting his blond, soft hair instead of all the murder plans he's concocting in his head.

The front door busted open and he could see a shock of red hair. Leave it to Axl to make such a dramatic entrance, to let everyone know the diva has arrived.

Behind him, Izzy sighs and rolls his eyes. The brunet crashes on the single sofa, the one they found on the side of the road that probably has fleas and other creatures that could suck his blood.

The redhead sheds the large leather jacket; he looks like a little boy wearing its dad's clothes and sits on Izzy's lap, Duff would think they were adorable if he wasn't so sleep deprived and irritated, _jealous_ , corrected his mind and he muttered a curse under his breath.

"What's got you so worked up, Blondie?" Izzy turned to look at him, his stormy brown eyes were watching every move and twitch on his face, he couldn't hide anything from him, the rhythm guitarist just knows that stuff, after all, he was fluent in Axlism after almost ten years together, so it came naturally for him to read people.

"Nothing, 'm just tired, that's all" the bassist didn't know who he wanted to convince, Izzy, or himself. The brunet didn't let go, his gaze was heavier, eyes almost dark.

"Slash has company?" inquired the singer when a loud moan reached his ears, he knitted his brows together, a pout on his lips, Duff nodded and Steven stirred, a loopy smile on his face "What's eating at you, McKagan? you're making me nervous"

"I just feel weird, you know, Slash and I have been messing around and suddenly he brings Renee, it's just confusing" Duff swallowed and watched with horror when Axl took a dollar bill from his pocket and deposited on Izzy's outstretched hand.

"Told you they were fucking, babe," Izzy says with his midwestern drawl and Duff thinks for the first time it's annoying.

"It looks like someone's jealous "Axl teased and nudge Izzy on the ribs wiggling his eyebrows, the brunet chuckled but he's wary of Duff's death stare. The flower child licks his lips and cleared his throat.

"Well, we know Slash, he's our friend but the guy just wants to have fun, Duffy, Renee it's the longest-lasting relationship I've seen him put any kind of effort," Izzy rested his left hand on the small of Axl's back, who nods approvingly.

"Just enjoy it while it lasts, Blondie, look at it as a game, Slash doesn't do love, at least not for too long, his only real girlfriend's heroin and Jack Daniels," Axl folds his arms in front of him, and empathetic look on his green eyes.

It's supposed to make him feel better and appreciates his friends' words, but his heart breaks a little, he's just a fling.

Sleeping on the couch wasn't such a bad idea if he wasn't over 6ft tall, but finally, the noise from upstairs stopped, and although sleep doesn't come quickly.

Duff's thankful that he can hear his own discomforting thoughts, it was just mindless sex, and he had to act like a girl who lost his virginity and get attached so easily, sex and love sometimes don't mix well together and he should have known it.

**. . .**

Duff doesn't realize the tape changed, well he's far more occupied with the beautiful raven-haired boy on all fours in front of him, his coppery skin glistened with sweat and his thighs quivered with the exertion, to notice the songs are different.

There's no Def Leppard, Aerosmith, or Motley Crue, well the latter was banned in the house per Izzy's request and they know not to mess with the rhythm guitarist if they wanted their heads to be intact between their shoulders, if they didn't obey the rules, well Axl had his own methods.

"Is that fucking Nazareth?" blurted the blond and shook his head dumbfounded. Only Slash could put fucking 'Love hurts' in a tape he has sex with.

The tempo is slow and suddenly the air in the room changes, it's almost romantic if Duff focuses on the song, almost like they're making love and the bassist cringes.

"It's a good fucking song, got bored with the other one, this one's new, asshole, specially made for when I'm with dudes, now, are you going to eat me out, or do I have to do it myself?" Slash tossed a pillow to Duff's face.

Who just stands there open-mouthed, but finally shrugs and goes back to the task at hand. Soon he had the raven guitarist moaning and a blubbering mess.

He tries not to think about it that much; it stings that maybe the younger boy wants to experiment with other boys, like Duff is not enough to satisfy his needs or that all these times they were together he was just faking it so he wouldn't hurt the blond's feelings, girls do it sometimes, so why wouldn't Slash do it too?

The blond braced his heart and prepared for the worse. To find him with another guy every time they're out in a bar because the brunet just draws attention to himself.

He's handsome with his sun-kissed skin, sparkly dark eyes and god don't get him started on his calloused hands or the way he fills those tight leather pants, even if recently he prefers to uses that ridiculous top hat that covers half of his face.

The bassist has seen the way girls and boys alike flirt with him, but the curly-haired boy gets shy every time a guy buys him a drink or sneaks their grubby arms on his waist. He dismissed them completely with a curt nod.

Duff expected their lead guitarist to bring a guy home, but he just kept seeing different girls and his girlfriend, so far since he made the "Bro tape" as he started calling it.

No other guy has stepped foot in their shitty house, at least not to his knowledge. He knows he's acting like a jealous girlfriend, but sex it's the only thing he can give Slash to keep him close.

. . .

The blond is laying down on the yellowish dead grass watching the clouds drift slowly above the blue sky, Slash is hunched over on the ground, his bushy hair in a ponytail, and he's shirtless.

The heat from the summers unbearable and there're beads of sweat on his exposed torso, Duff's wearing what the brunet thinks are the shortest shorts he's ever seen, exposing his creamy legs that could go for miles, they should be banned in at least five states.

Duff McKagan has no business being that hot and oblivious they're talking about everything from what they would do with a DeLorean to the massive crush Duff has on Harrison Ford, the trusty boombox near the two of them, Joan Jett's singing 'I hate myself for loving you'.

"Maybe I can buy myself a slave Leia outfit, we roleplay and all that shit, that would be hot" Slash's voice is like taffy around Duff's ears, all lazy and stretching the vowels in that way only he does, the blond sometimes pictures him with a more pronounced British accent, now that would be hot.

"How's Renee?" Duff turned to look at him, his brown eyes all big and filled with curiosity, Slash grabs a cigarette from the pack on the grass, he squirms under the blond's gaze and he laughs nervously.

"Dunno, haven't seen her in weeks" the blond's eyes widened and he blinks dumfounded. He bites his bottom lip, already feeling ashamed at the dumb question. "I broke up with her"

It was a lie; she was the one who broke up with him with the excuse that she was so miserable in the relationship, saying shit like he was a drunken mess to put any effort.

Slash knows it was because he clogged the bathroom with his puke one time after a party. He still had a reputation to maintain, and Duff didn't need to know that kind of information.

"I'm... sorry I guess" the bassist shrugs but Slash chuckles. Searching for the blond's hands and lacing their fingers together, Duff's heart skipped a beat.

"Don't be, Blondie, things like that happened, there's plenty of fish in the sea and I have my eyes set on someone already" Slash looks down at his bare feet, feeling the rough patches of grass, he's still holding Duff's hands but it seemed that the blond didn't catch what he said.

**. . .**

Slash stands in the entrance of their bedroom, shifting his weight from foot to foot. The bassist is reading from a guitar magazine he stole from Izzy's room.

Holding his piggy plush toy close to his chin, he cleared his throat to get the blond's attention. But the guy is too invested in the article he's reading.

"Hey, Duff" the taller boy raised his head to look at the guitarist, his unruly curls obscure half of his face, and the blond's disappointed he can't see those deep soulful eyes, Slash sits on the edge of the bed and fidgets with his thumbs "Izzy lend me the truck, wanna go for a ride?"

The raven-haired boy dangles the key in front of Duff's face and the blond lighted up, a gentle smile on his thin lips. He tucked a piece of blond hair behind his ear and nodded, careful to not look that excited.

Grabbing his jean jacket and slipping his cowboy boots on, internally he berates himself, he should have said no and slammed the door on his stupidly handsome face, he wants to stop his developing feelings not kept them alive.

Before they leave, the guitarist grabs one tape, Duff notices this one doesn't have a name, Slash puts the tape on his pocket and grins, patting the blond's shoulder.

Izzy must have been drunk to lend someone so reckless the precious truck. If something happened, they wouldn't hear the end.

Slash is not drunk for once. When they're out of the driveway, he puts on the tape. The bassist was hoping to hear some rock, but he was caught by surprise to hear fucking Chicago.

He wants to say something but he just stares at the boy who drums his fingers on the wheel at the beat of the music, and he's fucking singing, not a rare sight but he's not drunk to sing at the top of his lungs.

They rolled the windows down and Duff felt the breeze gently ruffling his hair and he genuinely smiles, joining the brunet in his karaoke session, Saul 'Slash' Hudson, lead guitarist of the world's most dangerous band in the world singing fucking love songs.

It's not something you see daily, moments like this are the ones he treasures the most when he could pretend for a little while that they were together.

They drive to Venice beach, Duff's concerned the gas on the truck's not going to last and Izzy will finally burst a vein, but he also doesn't care, Slash has that ability to trigger his reckless instincts.

The brunet parked and immediately gets out, the blond trails behind him like a puppy, it's late and there are few people on the beach, the sun dipping in the horizon and disappearing so everyone could bask in the moon's beauty, outside the city sounds like a distant echo, the twinkling lights from the distant shore and the palm trees swaying gently.

Slash sits on the sand, arms behind his neck. He sighed and closed his eyes; the bassist sits beside him a little farther from the boy; the brunet pulls a little bottle of Jack from his pocket, wiggling his eyebrows.

He gave it a big gulp before he passed it to the blond. He just takes little sips, not wanting to forget this moment in a drunken stupor.

Suddenly the raven-haired boy gets up and takes off the cumbersome leather jacket and worn black converse, he coaxed blond to come with him, Duff's confused but he follows him, he'll follow him everywhere without hesitation and it scares him.

Slash takes the bassist denim jacket and urges him to take off the boots, the coarse sand it's pleasant underneath his toes. It was warm after an entire day in the sun.

The guitarist walked towards the shoreline where land and water met, the comforting sound of the waves crashing around them, it's like a distant song he would never tire to hear.

Duff's beside him, his hazel eyes look at him with wonder and something else, something he never saw before in the girls he fucks. Without thinking, he splashes his friend directly in the face, laughing at his expression.

The blond regrets using his favorite shirt for the night, the water's not cold but he wore eyeliner and now he will look like a damn raccoon in front of the guy he has a crush on, but he wastes no time to defend himself in retaliation, splashing the brunet's face.

He feels so young on the beach, playing like two boys and maybe they are, for a moment he can forget about the countless nights he went to sleep with an empty stomach or the drug-fueled days he can barely remember.

Duff slips and lands on the sand, brings the younger boy with him in a tangle of limbs, the clothes stick to his slender body, Slash is underneath him, breathing heavily, wheezing, a broad smile on his sinfully plump lips, the blond can see his bottom crooked teeth and he thinks it's adorable.

The little droplets of water glistening in his curls, the bassist's blond hair sticks to his forehead, the brunet thinks his hazel eyes sparkle beautifully under the distant lights, Duff swallowed, leaning down, catching his lips in a searing kiss, tasting the sea on his lips, it's not the first time they kiss.

But it's the first time they do it outside of the four walls of their bedroom and without the pretense of sex, and inside, the blond expects to be pushed away, for Slash to get up and leave him in the middle of the beach all wet, but the brunet wrapped his arms around Duff's neck bringing him closer.

His heart beat faster, can smell the whisky on his breath, they don't kiss again and Duff's a little disappointed, but just being there, drinking in Slash's beauty it's enough, breathing in his distinctive smell of coconut conditioner and cheap cologne.

Some cruel part of him thinks the brunet knows what he's doing to him, playing with him like a doll and tossed it in the trash when he's no longer needed.

The drive back home it's silent, just the soft music from the radio and the sounds from their breathing, the city lights flickering in front of him. The car is going so fast that Duff thinks they're not moving at all.

Slash glances at the blond, bathed at the passing neon lights, painting his blond locks in different colors, he looks so beautiful that he almost knocks the wind out of his lungs.

Later the brunet gifted him a brand-new stuffed piggy, he left it on top of the bed and Duff felt butterflies in his belly flapping its wings with violence, a warmth spreading in his chest, it was a nice gesture from him, to remember what he liked.

**. . .**

Next time they're making out in the bedroom after a night of drinking, the same tape from their trip to the beach singing softly in the distance, it's full of cheesy romantic songs.

He can't stop imagining the curly-haired guitarist listening to REO fucking Speedwagon when he's alone, said boy is on top of him, almost straddling him, the blond rests his hands on the soft skin of his thighs, thumbing the little hairs there.

Duff reached for his boxers. But the guitarist pulls away, his lips red, swollen, and glistening with spit. He looks at the blond shyly and gets off his lap.

His gaze never leaving his face. His face is like a blank canvas and Duff can't help but get that anxious feeling in his chest, like a cold bucket of water being poured over his head.

"Can we...damn...Can we not have sex today, I just wanna smoke and listen to music," with you, the brunet wants to say but the words get caught up in his throat.

Slash's voice is almost a whisper, he sounds unsure, almost as if Duff will get angry and lash out at him, but he gives the younger boy his best reassuring smile.

"Of course, Slash, whatever you want," Duff said and watched Slash get up and rolled a joint with his nimble hands, lightning it, the smell of weed filling his nostrils.

The brunet collapses beside him, playing with a blond lock, and passes it to him. Maybe high he can forget about what happened.

That is a red flag if Duff's ever seen one, Slash is a sexual being and he never refused sex before no matter how high and shitfaced he was, the blond's sure that if he doesn't fuck, his bandmate will suffer from a spontaneous combustion and die.

But the taller boy nodded. Spending time with him is nice, doesn't matter if there's sex involved or not.

Duff wanted it to be an isolated case, but the next night they didn't have sex again, instead, the brunet insisted that they watched a bunch of movies and Duff couldn't really say no to him when he presented the stacks of VHS.

The raven wanted him to watch the exorcist 20 minutes into the movie, Slash fell asleep and left the bassist to suffer alone for the whole movie.

He had nightmares for weeks, but it was a good excuse to sneak out of his bed and sleep with the curly-haired boy, who would wrap his arms around his waist without hesitation and bury his head against the nape of his neck.

After days of sexless nights and just lounging in the living room watching movies, ridiculous sitcoms, and listening to music in their bedroom, Duff really got panicky, perhaps the brunet finally found someone better and more worthy of his time, or maybe he went back to Renee.

He's in the middle of a panic attack when he busted through the bathroom door and found Izzy with a black-stained towel around his shoulders and Axl standing behind him with a brush, he's wearing an old t-shirt ridden with holes, the box of dye rests on the sink.

"He doesn't want to have sex with me" His voice cracked and he just bawled his eyes out. The couple looked at each other.

"Hey, hey Duffy, maybe he's just confused" Axl is not emotionally equipped to deal with this.

The redhead doesn't know how to deal with an emotional Duff, most of the time the taller boy is the one to help them in that particular department.

He wants to pat him in the back but doesn't want to stain the blond's black polka dot shirt; he cries harder and Axl looks at his boyfriend with pleading eyes.

"You don't need to worry your pretty little head, Duff, Slash is weird, so just give him time, you two are practically joined by the hip, he's always around you, maybe he needs space," Izzy is the voice of reason when he's not drunk or seeing maggots while high, Duff's bottom lip quivered and the flower child wraps his arms around him.

"Duff, don't let him see you like this, show him you're better than him" Axl took off the soiled gloves and wiped the blond's tears, the redhead wasn't always like that, but he had a hunch he was his favorite, well beside Izzy "But damn, Duffy sometimes you're so oblivious"

He's not a dumb blond like everyone else thinks of him, wants to believe he's above average. He was the first of his class back on the day until he drops out.

So no, Duff McKagan is not stupid. He thought he might be just very oblivious, or that's what Axl told him. He has no clue why the redhead might think so.

**. . .**

Duff had been stuffing popcorn in his mouth, his throat's dry for eating too much salt, the T. V flickering in front of his hazel eyes, Slash's hand had been resting on his knee.

Before the brunet sneaked it slowly towards his crotch, cupping his soft length, concealed inside the tight leather pants.

The blond flinched and visibly tensed, immediately forgetting about the movie playing, Kiefer Sutherland looked more than good as a vampire, he turned to glance at the other attractive boy beside him.

The curly-haired raven smirked, his eyes droopy, tongue glazed over his full bottom lip, leaving a wet trail in his wake before he gave his cock a slight squeeze.

It gave the blond a half chub and his cheeks reddened, but the bassist jumped out of his seat, popcorn fell on the carpet and he had the hunch that if he didn't pick it up, no one will.

Slash knitted his brows, his face contorted in a sour expression, the blond could see a little hurt in his deep dark eyes, his heart clenched at the sight but his icy stare remained, he felt anger starting to steam rising little by little; it was ridiculous.

"You haven't touched me in days and suddenly you want to have sex, I'm not a fucking toy, Saul" his voice faltered, a knot in his throat, chagrined etched on his once soft features, maybe he was being dramatic but he needed to protect his heart from the potential heartache.

"Is that relevant?" the brunet scoffed and reached for the cigarette behind his ear, he craved the taste of nicotine to calm his anxiety, but it just took a glance at the blond's hazel eyes to know how much the current situation weighed him down.

"Yes, yes it is, because I'm not you stupid doll, sex it's important to you, I watched your stupid movies and cartoons and you haven't touched me and now you're all over me" he grabbed the can of coke from the ground and took a sip, wetting his lips, biting the inside of his cheek.

Ok that hurts, Slash's mouth was agape, his face contorted in anger, yes he liked sex but he was more than that, wasn't it so difficult to understand that he wanted to spend time with the blond, perhaps he was mistaken. And for Duff, this was just plain sex and his developing feelings didn't matter; he was one, if not the major reason he agreed to break things with Renee, because ever since that kiss on the beach he couldn't stop fantasizing about all the things he wanted to do in the company of the bassist.

"I just don't feel like it" the guitarist shrugged and ran a hand through his curls, his plump lips in a tight line, Duff was sure that the brunet wanted to end things with him, he wasn't sure what to call what they had, but it couldn't be love, or so he thought.

"You're breaking things with me, are you?" Duff's already gentle voice was brittle. He wrapped his arms around himself, "I'm nothing more than one of your toys, right?"

"What? no, Duff, it's not that, fuck you don't even know" the raven ran a hand through his face, groaning and taking deep breaths, he genuinely wanted to know more about the blond.

They knew each other for years, shared girls, alcohol and most night shared the same bed. He wanted to know the deepest parts of him, what he liked, and scared him.

"Then what is it, or what is his name?" the blond raised his voice, sounding aggravated. He probably would regret this later when he cleared his head and his anxiety didn't let him sleep.

Slash didn't get mad easily, but he shook his head and stormed off, the heel of his cowboy boots muffled against the carpet. Climbing the stairs towards his room, Duff was following him close.

Calling his name softly, his voice strained, the brunet opened the drawer and held the tape in his fist until his knuckles were white.

"It was all for you, Michael, I wanted to try for you, like really try, I know how much you care about all those romantic things," Slash put his hands over his head exasperated, tapping his foot on the carpet "Don't make me say it"

Slash threw the tape at Duff's, not caring if the plastic hit him in his stupidly perfect face. He was steaming with anger. The blond just saw him as a sex-crazed pervert, who played with people's feelings.

But the girls he laid with knew better than to not get attached, it's simple casual sex, but with the bassist was different, with every passing day he found himself smitten by how sweet-tempered and caring he was, he longed to have him near in every waking moment.

"If sex is that important to you, then find someone who just cares about a good fuck and not about being with you," The brunet grabbed a leather from the ground and slip it in his shoulders, he avoids eye contact with Duff "And for your information, I have fucked no other dude, just you, you're the only one"

Slash looked defeated, and the blond felt his heart sink inside his chest. The guitarist sighed and left the room; he heard the front door being slammed and felt the hot stinging tears run down his cheeks; he picked the nameless tape off the ground. But now it had a name. On one side said ïFor Duffï with a heart and a smiley face.

**. . .**

During breakfast things weren't any better, Slash refused to talk to him and even acknowledge his presence.

Axl was already in a foul mood and tensions were running high on the table, Steven was the only one oblivious enough to not know what was going on.

"Izz, can you ask Duff if he can lend me his other amp for rehearsal, please?" Slash cleared his throat, anger etched on his face, and the blond rolled his eyes.

Only their lead guitarist would be so immature to do something like that. Poor Izzy sighed and turned to look at the bassist.

"Don't worry, Izz I heard him just fine," Duff answered with a sarcastic tone and crossed his arms, glaring at the brunet "Tell Saul that he should take better care of his things next time, he can use it but he better not trade it for drugs"

Izzy opened his mouth, but the redhead slammed his hands on the wooden table, his face red with anger. It matched his hair; he gritted his teeth and was panting. Everyone at the table flinched.

"Enough!, stop acting like fuckin' children and talk to each other, solve your fuckin' problems and deal with it like adults, also leave my baby out of this" Axl laced his fingers with the flower child's and tugged him towards the stairs.

The rhythm guitarist grabbed his cup of coffee before he could anger the singer more, Slash rolled his eyes and also disappeared upstairs, the sound from the shower being turned on could be heard.

Duff and Steven remained on the table, the little drummer was more than used to these spats, he was barely shaken, eating his cereal and humming, his unnaturally blue eyes landed on him and he gave the bassist one of his trademark sunny smiles.

"Give him something meaningful and all would be forgiven" the words that came out of Steven's mouth were cryptic, giving the taller boy the impression that maybe he was high. His blue eyes sparkled and Duff swore he could see right through him.

"Excuse me?" Duff gawked skeptically at the little drummer. He lifted an eyebrow and waited for an answer, Steven drank the rest of his milk and wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Slash, make him something special, he's not good with words and music has always been there, so give him something that can say all you want," the drummer rose and left his bowl on the dirty sink, patted Duff on his shoulder and sat down on the couch to watch T.V.

**. . .**

Later in the week, they had a gig, Slash thoughts were on certain blond all the way across the stage while he strummed on his trusty Les Paul, if he fucked up Axl wouldn’t shut up and he definitely didn’t need that on top of his frantic mind.

But not even music could keep his mind away. To say he’s exhausted was an understatement. He evaded the bassist and instead ground against Axl with Izzy glaring at him.

It was a secret, but the flower child terrified him; he was sure he killed a man at one point in his life, but that was a thought for another day.

Duff’s forehead glistened with little droplets of sweat, sliding through his perfect face. He was wearing the pimp coat, for him, it was the perfect length.

Slash thought he shone like the fucking sun. The bastard was wearing red lipstick, and he wanted to kiss it off of him, wanted the blond to leave his kiss mark all over his coppery skin.

After it was over, they wasted no time in returning home, well they had no other choice after Izzy almost got into a fight with one bouncer and pissed in the manager’s office.

The flower child had balls. The curly-haired boy could hear Duff giggling with Steven. He wanted to be the one making him laugh.  
At the shared house, Slash didn’t feel like joining the party, instead, he sat at the couch brooding, a beer rested on his knee, music loud it almost broke the speaker on the old boombox.

Stevie invited his girlfriend, and he tried to get him into the mood, Duff was nowhere around the living room, Izzy and Axl were sharing a joint and talking lazily, the redhead arose and approached him with a smirk, his hair still teased high and some of his eyeshadow running through his cheeks.

“Hey, Slasher, me and Izz were wondering if you had some coke left, Izz forgot to invite his dealer,” Axl folded his arms, devilish smile still plastered on his lips, eyes held a mischievous glint.

Slash nodded and got up. He put one of the musty pillows in his seat so no one could steal it.

They climbed the stairs, and the brunet found his bedroom closed, he furrowed his brows, Axl opened the door with a key he had in his pocket and raised his eyebrows, inside the room was dark.

So dark Slash couldn’t see his own hands in front of him. The bulb above their head flickered and the low light bathed the room with a fluorescent pale light, Duff was there tapping his foot with a sneer on his face.

“Oh no, Axl, I will not talk with him” the guitarist shook his head and rolled his eyes, biting his bottom lip.

“Yes, yes, you are going to, you moron! solve your problems, it’s fuckin’ painful to watch you motherfuckers dance around each other, so no one leaves this room if you don’t fix this!” Axl jeered and slammed the door shut, Slash heard the lock and his heart sink in his chest.

“I ask him to bring you up here, want to talk to you” Duff sighed, sitting in the mattress, his head hanging low, blond locks obscuring his face.

The music was loud downstairs. The brunet took a seat beside him. You could cut the tension with a knife and hear his heart thumping loudly against his ribs.

“I made you something, it was Steven’s idea” Duff’s shaky voice broke the deafening silence; he reached for his pocket and pull out a tape, handing it to the curly-haired boy.

Slash wasted no time in putting it on his old and trusty boombox. ‘Heaven is a place on earth’ started playing and the raven-haired boy shook his head and smiled, his pearly white teeth peeking through his full lips.

Only someone as romantic as Duff could come up with such romantic songs. He turned around where the blond stand up biting his fingernails and his breath was shaky. The brunet grabbed his hand and laced their fingers together.

“I thought you didn’t want me” admitted the blond, mumbling the words, he made the corkscrew curls that covered his handsome face, finding his soulful eyes, he missed them.

“I want you, Michael, only you, though I was being direct enough, that was the purpose of the tape,” Slash scoffed, a light smile on the corner of his lips, creating a crease on his mouth “the way I feel when I’m with you… it’s unbelievable, what have you done to me?”

His sight focused on the warm brown ones of the blond, only to found genuine love and affection, insecurities cloud his mind and Duff dissipated every single one of them.

“Every damn time I look at you, I’m better when I’m with you” the brunet grabbed him by the chin, they were so close Duff felt drunk on the beer on Slash’s lips and love.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen and you don’t even know, Slash, you haven’t seen yourself when you’re playing one of your riffs or watching your favorite movies or-or when you wake up with messy curls, the way wind ruffles your hair, your laugh God I love your laugh, I-I I think I’m in love with you,” Duff immediately cover his mouth, his eyes widened and a red blush crept to his cheeks. 

“Then… why haven’t you kissed me yet?” Slash walked towards him and wrapped his arms around his neck, standing on his tippy-toes so he could reach the taller boy.

Duff closed the gap between them, it was like diving into the ocean, the brunet’s lips are soft, his nose bumps against the blond’s, his red lipstick smears against coppery skin, leaving a crimson trail of kisses.

Gently Slash takes his pimp coat off, it slides on the ground, next to his black t-shirt, his necklaces clinking against each other, calloused hands rest near the heavy belt around his faded black jeans, the one he splashed with bleach, Duff smirks against full lips and gets the tight material out of the way.

They fell on the mattress, the younger boy on top of him, taking his white shirt off, curls bouncing with the motion, ‘Magic Man’ sound loudly in the background, his calloused warm hands rest on Duff’s chest above his sternum where his heart beats faster, he wants to convince himself this is not a dream. 

“I-I want you to fuck me Saul” stammered the blond and Slash loves the way his names fell off his swollen lips, he nods and grabs the small bottle of lube on the drawer, he foregoes the condoms, Duff’s better than any other girl, bets his ass is better, warmer and tighter than all the cunts he’s ever fucked.

Slash squirted lube on his hand and parted Duff’s buttcheeks, he is gentle and opens him slowly, doesn’t want to hurt him, his head spins at the sight of the blond underneath him, so gorgeous and fuckable, panting, he’s warm and soft all over, the brunet caressed one of his long and creamy legs.

That first push inside knocks the wind out of his lungs and he moans, feeling Duff’s tight heat enveloping, he adjusts himself until his cock is seated inside the blond.

Who curls his toes and wraps his long legs around the curly-haired guitarist’s hips, arms around his neck, bringing their foreheads together, he brushes against his sweet spot, and the moan that escapes from his lips goes straight to his leaking cock.

Cindy Lauper’s singing and he leans down to kiss the bassist, his peace is slow, dragging his length over that spot that has him reeling, and close his eyes, the squelching sound should be obscene but it just serves him to turn him on, this doesn’t feel like all the other times they fuck, somehow this feels more real, more like he finally belongs.

Duff’s cock it’s squished between their tummies, leaking steadily and painfully hard, the raven-haired boy reaches for it and pumps it slowly, teasing the blond until the boy is a moaning mess.

Slash empties his seed inside of the blond, grunting and throwing his head back. The bassist makes a mess in his hand, panting, as a bead of sweat runs down his pale neck.

The tape, it’s still going. The romantic songs Duff chose for him melted his heart, he made mixtapes for everyone; he had never been good with words, but the music was always an option for him.

“Want to go on a date with me? Slash grabs a cigarette; god forbid he had a fuck without a good smoke “I want to make things right with you”

Duff can see the way his coppery cheeks flushed to a lovely red, his curls obscure half of his face. The blond made his hair aside and kissed him reassuringly.

“Sure thing, Saul, just don’t make me watch horror movies and I’ll be fine”.

Their sweaty and sticky bodies slotted against each other perfectly, like finding the missing puzzle piece. The blond kissed his hand and cuddled closer to him; they fell asleep with Blue Oyster Cult and in each other arms, and Slash’s curls tickling his face, but it was where he rather be…


End file.
